The Art of Breaking
by sailorgreywolf
Summary: This is a rewrite of my story Break Me, same general plot, different scenes and dialogue When WWII ends, Prussia finds himself in the clutches of Russia, who is intent on making him a loyal communist state. Amidst the torture and the brainwashing, feelings begin to emerge. Does contain yaoi, and very heavy BDSM.
1. Prologue

Russia was standing on the balcony of his house in Leningrad. He had a lazy smile on his face. His thoughts were focused on how well things were going between himself and Prussia. The invasion of Poland had been perfect, there had even been a moment when they had been so close that Russia could almost taste the porcelain skin. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips remembering it. Then he had seen glorious retribution exacted upon France at the albino's hand; it had been beautiful and only reinforced the cruelty Russia had seen behind those eyes when offering the nonaggression pact.

Below him he could see people milling about, doing tasks that would help the war. It wasn't entirely necessary, considering how handily the army had dealt with every challenge yet. He took a step closer to the edge of the balcony, feeling the rare warmth of the sun wash across his face. His smile spread all the way across his face.

There was the soft thump of boot steps sounded behind him, but it wasn't worrying. No one who meant him harm could get in here, his guards would make sure of that. He barely turned as he said, "Who is there?" On some level, he understood that the person behind him had too much weight in his step to be either of his sisters.  
>The voice that responded was male and very familiar, "You already know, Ivan."<p>

Prussia's voice, so very unique, was a welcome surprise. Russia had sensed that there was chemistry between them, but he hadn't expected the other to act on it so quickly. He spoke, without turning to face Prussia; "You're seeking me out by yourself, Gilbert?" He couldn't stop his smile, knowing where this was going to go. He turned slowly, for dramatic effect and to prolong the joy of seeing Prussia submissive. He spoke as he did so, "It's almost as though you're fond of-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a jolt of pain shot through his chest. The force of whatever had hit him knocked him back. The pain overwhelming his senses, he didn't make the choice to fall to one knee. He put one hand to the center of the burning pain and felt wetness and a distinct hole. His mind finally caught up with what his body was telling him. He had been shot.

Russia looked up at the man standing on the other side of the room, his eyes starting to burn with unbidden tears. The white hair and skin was obvious against the black uniform. The white hands were wrapped around a sleek black handgun with a silencer attached. Prussia's face was completely expressionless until he noticed that Russia was glaring at him. Then he smiled and took a couple even steps forward, "Does that hurt, communist pig?"

A click, which was seemingly deafening in the silent room, signaled that Prussia had cocked the gun again. He walked still closer, while Russia contemplated if he had enough strength to push himself up and tackle the albino. But, something other than his pain was freezing him. The moisture that had been stinging his eyes slowly ran down his cheeks. He refused to voice this weakness though. He looked up and said between his gritted teeth, "We had a pact!"

Once he got closer, the light fell across Prussia's face, revealing that his eyes were completely void of emotion. Even the smile painted across the pale lips didn't seem to reach into the endless ruby. The German responded, "We did, while you were useful. But there was one factor: Your ideology is a disease that should be wiped from the Earth." He took the final step that closed the space between them. The barrel of the gun filled the Russian's vision, long and twisting, the black depth promising a quick death.

Russia spoke the only words that could come to his mind, "How can someone like you become that madman's lapdog?" He spat the words with utter venom, hoping to get some response.  
>Prussia finally truly reacted, growling in the back of his throat. He spoke, "If you want to waste your last breaths insulting me, that's your choice. It only shortens the time before I put a bullet in your head." Russia could see the single white finger move to the trigger.<p>

But, a minute passed and then another. There was no sound but the silence and drops of blood rolling off of Russia's hand and hitting the floor with an irritating kind of regularity. Then, Prussia's face slipped into a grimace for a split second before returning to completely emotionless and his finger slipped off the trigger. With a dull thud, the hammer of the gun slipped back into place with no shot exploding out of the end of the muzzle. Without a single word, the albino turned sharply on his heel and walked out.

Russia finally forced himself to his feel and yelled after the other, "You better kill me now, or I will make you pay tenfold for this!" Prussia turned one more time. His face was completely pale, a white mask. His jaw was clearly set and clenched. He raised the gun one more time and fired again. This time the bullet smashed through the shoulder, knocking Russia again to his knees. As the door closed behind Prussia, Russia let out a long groan born of a mix of frustration and pain. He had been naïve, even absurdly trusting and now he was paying for it. But, a single spark of rage ignited. He vowed to wage a war of total destruction, to bring Prussia down.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I've finally decided to rewrite Break Me, since it does desperately need to be done. It was the first RusPru story I wrote and it was not, honestly, my best writing. But, the plot is central to everything else I've written about them so I couldn't simply delete it. Therefor, I am updating it to fit with the rest of the trilogy.  
>I've kept the betrayal as the prologue, but I've decided to make it more accurate to the history.<br>Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!_


	2. Chapter 1

The cell was lit only by a single exposed bulb, which swung slowly although there was no movement of the air in the room. Prussia was walking around the sparse space in small circles. His mind was reeling. He had been captured by the Red Army, and Berlin had most likely fallen. From this windowless room, with its grim concrete walls, he had had no news of the outside world. It had been at least a couple days since he had been captured, but it was hard to say without a clock or any view of the sun. The hours all blended together and seemed to stretch on eternally.

Prussia glanced down at his forearms, which were exposed because he was wearing nothing on his upper body but his undershirt. The skin was stained purple with deep bruising. If he had a mirror, he would probably see that there was similar bruising across one side of his face. He hadn't gone down without a fight and his body now bore the marks of it.

The sound of the latch on the other side of the door alerted Prussia to the fact that the thick metal door was about to swing open. He took several steps back so that he would have some opportunity to resist whatever was about to happen. The Soviet officer on the other side of the door was mortal, and obviously only a messenger. He was flanked by a pair of foot soldiers who were holding rifles. They seemed completely unnecessary considering Prussia was completely alone and unarmed. The officer spoke, "Comrade Braginski has instructed us to bring you to him."

Prussia expected nothing less; he had been waiting for Russia to summon him. He mustered all of his remaining pride and straightened his spine. He was half in a state of undress because the top of his uniform had been confiscated, but he refused to act like he was missing anything. He refused to act like he was defeated or broken. He took a couple steps forward, but was signaled to stop. He stood stock still as the mortal walked toward him and silently attached handcuffs to both of the albino's wrists in front of his body. Again, this seemed excessive; Prussia could hardly have done anything with his hands to change the predicament that he was in.

The journey through the twisted hallways was silent but for the sound of boots hitting the floor. They eventually reached a door, which was pulled open. Prussia felt a hand on the center of his back. A sharp shove forced the albino to stumble forward into the room. It was not an expansive space, but it seemed huge after the close confines of the cell. A table was set it the middle of the room, covered in more food than Prussia had seen in quite a while. Russia was sitting at the head of the table. He looked up as the door opened and smiled. He gestured to the only other chair in the room and said, "Seat him there and then leave us." The mortals obeyed without a sound. The pair of foot soldiers grabbed the albino by the shoulders and forced him down into a sitting position in the chair. Once that was done, they all left the room.

Prussia turned his gaze to Russia, who was looking at him with a smirk that would have turned most men's blood to ice. They were very close together, far closer than Prussia was comfortable. He could feel the violet eyes boring into him. But, he wouldn't back down; he wouldn't tremble before Russia like one of the Baltic States. He was spitefully silent, but it didn't matter, because the other addressed him, "You look terrible, Gilbert."

Prussia mustered as much hate as he could and said, "I would look better if I was properly dressed." The other laughed coldly and slowly stood.  
>He then spoke, taking a step closer to the albino as he spoke, "No, I don't think so. I don't want to see those SS bolts on your lapel. I don't want to see a swastika on your arm. And considering your position, what I want is really all that matters." Russia put his gloved hand under the albino's chin, almost gently. He turned the head slightly from side to side. Prussia wanted to resist, but this gesture wasn't hurting him, so he would save his strength for when he really needed to save himself from harm.<p>

Russia still had a laugh in his voice when he said, "You've been living on rations for a while, haven't you?" Prussia gritted his teeth and refused to answer. The truth was that he had been. It had been essential that military rations be small and simple in order to maintain the war effort. As the allies had closed in, the servings of food had gotten smaller. For countries, there was no possibility of starving, but they still showed the signs of deprivation.

His stony silence did nothing to change Russia's pleased expression. The Russian spoke again, "You don't have to confirm that, little Nazi. I can see it in your eyes, in your cheeks. You still have your pretty face, but I can see that you're hungry. I've gotten used to seeing that look on men's faces" The buried compliment was even mocking. Prussia growled audibly, but still kept himself from speaking.

Russia's smile finally slipped, replaced by a neutral expression that was all the more intimidating. His hand tightened on the albino's jaw, it became uncomfortable. Prussia opened his mouth to alleviate the pain. It helped, but it also returned the smile to the Russian's face. He spoke, "I don't think you understand the rules. Either you speak to me, or I make you scream." He released the German's jaw and sat back down.

Prussia, understanding the rules, but unwilling to be completely compliant, said, "This only lasts until the rest of your allies have a say, so enjoy being able to abuse me while you can." The threat sounded completely hollow, and Russia wasn't stirred.  
>He said, "You should focus on this moment for your own sake. And in this moment, the question is if this smells appealing to you." With that, Russia grabbed a plate from the middle of the table and sat it right in front of Prussia. There was a white napkin wrapped around whatever was on the plate. When Russia unwrapped it, an entire loaf of bread was revealed. The scent that emanated from it was indeed tantalizing. Prussia hadn't smelled fresh bread in quite a while, since the war had really begun looking hopeless. The smell was overwhelming, buttery and yeasty. The warmth of the bread only intensified the appetizing scent.<p>

His stomach growled without his consent, loudly enough for Russia to hear it and say, "I'll take that as a yes. Why don't you take a piece?" The taunt was completely transparent; Prussia's hands were bound in handcuffs and therefor useless to him. He glared at the Russian, trying to convey his frustration with only his eyes.  
>A minute elapsed in silence before Russia said with a cruel childish smile, "Oh, but I forgot that you can't. Here, let me help you." He reached forward and tore a piece off of the loaf. Russia was so close now that Prussia's mouth was beginning to water. He could almost imagine the taste of proper food.<p>

The Russian held the food tauntingly close for a couple seconds and then said, "I could feed you, but then I remember that you starved hundreds of thousands of people in Leningrad." The violet eyes suddenly turned to shards of ice. Russia stood up, pulling his hand away from Prussia's face. He reached over and grabbed the chain that connected the pair of handcuffs. The hands were pulled up over Prussia's head and behind his back, straining his shoulder joints. The pain wasn't extreme, but it was enough to pull his attention away from everything else.

Russia was now standing to the side of the chair with one hand easily restraining both of the albino's hands. He leaned forward and spoke in Prussia's ear, "You need to feel their pain. Did you really expect me to clothe you, feed you, and care for you, Nazi? After what you did, you need to suffer." The albino's heart was pounding in his chest, set racing by fear. He was at the mercy of a psychopath who was hell-bent on revenge.

Prussia spat back, "What are you going to do, you sick communist bastard?" Russia's free hand moved to the albino's barely concealed chest, and slipped under the thin undershirt. Prussia attempted to writhe away from the touch, but Russia simply pulled the albino's hands back farther, causing pain to shoot from his shoulders. Prussia had to clench his teeth to stop himself from crying out. In the midst of the pain, the hand moved further down Prussia's chest, taking advantage of the vulnerable position.

Russia's words worked their way into the other's ear, strangely smooth and seductive, "I asked myself the same thing, how best to punish you in this time we have together. Have you heard how my men have been taking their vengeance?" The tone of his voice clearly said what he meant. Prussia knew that Russia was referring to the rapes, and it chilled his blood. The threat was all too transparent, but there was nothing the albino could do to prevent it. He nodded slowly, knowing perfectly well what this response would mean.

Russia responded to the nod with a mirthless laugh, "I don't approve of it, but for you I could make an exception." The hand roaming over his chest continued to move without any resistance. As it dipped lower, brushing over the skin of Prussia's stomach sparks of sensation raced across his skin. Prussia didn't want to be enjoying any of this, but he couldn't deny that the feeling of leather brushing against his skin was thrilling. He couldn't let this progress any further. He viciously fought back against the hold and said, "Get your hands off me!"

Again, Russia seemed completely unshaken by the command. He pulled the other's hands back again, causing Prussia to actually cry out in pain. The Russian spoke again, "Why? Are you going to stop me? But don't worry I'm not going to rape you; that wouldn't be nearly enough. I'm going to do worse: I'm going to tell you about your future."

The German responded quickly with all too obvious confusion, "What are you talking about?" He had the feeling that this kind of insolent question would usually have elicited more punishment, but Russia seemed too fixated on skipping to revealing his plan. He moved his hand back up to Prussia's chest, still not breaking the contact, before saying, "The plans for peace have already been decided on. And since I did most of the European fighting, I get half of Germany. I'm going to insist that I get the West."

Prussia immediately understood. He curled both of his hands into tight fists. For the first time since the torment had started, Russia fixed his eyes on the albino's face, smiling sweetly at the look of hatred he found there. He continued talking in the same taunting tone, "I see you understand what that means. I will have your little brother under my watch with no supervision from anyone else. For his sake, I hope he is more pliable than you." He punctuated this with one more hard jerk to Prussia's bound hands. Again, the albino couldn't stop himself from crying out. The abused joints were protesting and sending burning pain through every possible nerve.

But, there was something more important for Prussia to do. He was shaking out of rage, not pain. He snarled back, "You will never have Ludwig!" Russia leaned closer, so that their faces were only inches apart, his cold eyes fixed directly on Prussia's.  
>He spoke again, "But I will. How are you going to protect your brother when you can't stop me from doing anything I want to you."<p>

His hand found one of the albino's nipples and grabbed onto it, twisting it until the man screamed. Prussia's back arched away from the chair, only causing more pain coming from his already sore shoulder joints. The mix of pain and a perverse sense of masochistic pleasure was enough to make him close his eyes. Russia's quiet voice came distinctly in his ear, "Go ahead Gil, stop me."

In agonizing frustration, He realized that there was no way to fight back from this position. Prussia responded, finally breaking down and admitting defeat, "I can't." With that admission, Russia released the nipple. The albino opened his eyes and realized that the other had gotten even closer. Their lips were practically touching. Russia was smiling with a sense of triumph that turned the other's stomach.

He moved the hand that had been assaulting the albino's chest to again holding on to the other's jaw. He continued speaking, "No you can't. Do you feel useless?" Prussia refused to give his tormentor any more satisfaction. He responded by saying, through his teeth that were clenched so tightly that his jaw muscles were aching, "I will die before I let you touch Ludwig!"

Russia sighed in frustration and released his hold on the handcuffs. The albino's hands fell back into his lap, immediately relieving the pain. Russia turned and said, not facing Prussia, "We leave for Potsdam in a couple hours. I will have half of Germany and there is nothing you can do to change that." He then turned back around again and signaled to the door, which swung open. Russia gave orders quickly, "Take the Nazi back to his cell and don't open the door for the rest of the night. He had important things to consider."

* * *

><p>Prussia was again pacing back and forth in the small cell. The conversation with Russia continued to run through his head in a continuous loop. He couldn't let Russia have his little brother, the boy he had loved and nurtured for years. It was his responsibility to protect Germany that much was unequivocal in his mind. The question was how he did that. He wasn't strong enough to stop Russia that much had been perfectly clear from the way he had been so completely dominated.<p>

His mind was fixed on the final sentence. Russia had said that he would have half of Germany, but he hadn't said that what half was decided. He had actually made it clear that the decision was not made. From this information, Prussia's mind started to create a solution. Russia could have a half of Germany, but not the one who wanted. It was terrifyingly simple. If Prussia offered to be taken by Russia, no one would deny him.

But, this idea was repulsive. He remembered the way that the man had run his hand over his body, the sickening thrill of it. He didn't want to think that he was a masochist, but he knew, and had known for years, that a suppressed part of his mind craved pain and dominance. If he was under Russian control constantly, that could all too easily be revealed. If it did slip out, then there was no way of knowing how far Russia would go to manipulate him. Prussia also knew that if he volunteered to be controlled by Russia, he would be subjected to torture.

But, none of that mattered. If it kept Germany from harm, then he could go through anything. Prussia finally stopped pacing. His decision was made, and there was no changing it. He knew what he was condemning himself to, but it was worth it for his brother's sake.

In the middle of this train of thought, the door to the cell was opened. Prussia turned to face Russia who was standing in the doorway. The man took several steps into a room. He was carrying Prussia's uniform, newly crisp and clean. It was this that Russia extended to Prussia, "Put this on. You might as well look presentable for your sentencing. Let your brother see you looking well one last time."

Silently, the German took the garment and pulled it on. It was immaculately pressed, so it was easy to put on and have perfectly in place. Once he was done with the buttons, Prussia looked back up at his captor. Russia was contemplating him with an expression that almost looked hungry. He took another step forward and placed one of his massive hands on the albino's shoulder and said, "Ready to say goodbye?"  
>The albino looked up into the violet eyes and reminded himself of his plan and said, "Yes, I am."<p>

* * *

><p>Russia pushed open one last pair of double doors open and they entered a large room already filled with people. There was a pair of long tables facing each other. The Allies, excluding Russia, were seated at the longer of the two tables. The other table had one empty chair. The others were filled by Austria and Germany.<p>

As the pair entered the room, a hush fell over the entire room. Austria was the first to turn around and looked directly at Prussia. He said something to Germany, who then turned to look at his brother. A slight smile appeared on his face, which faded when Russia leaned over and whispered to Prussia, "He looks delicious, doesn't he?" His hand tightened on the albino's shoulder, the finger's digging into the flesh. He added, "Don't forget that he's mine."

For a moment Prussia glanced over at the other and noticed that the violet eyes were not on Ludwig, but were focused on him. He dismissed the idea that this might mean something. Russia released Prussia and walked over to sit next to his allies on the other side of the room. The albino then took his own place at the other table. As soon as he sat down, Germany leaned over and said, "Are you alright, Gil?"

Prussia tried to imagine what he looked like at the moment, tired and beaten. His brother was looking at the bruising across his face. Under the table, Prussia reached over and laid his hand on top of his brother's. He responded with the best smile he could muster, "I'm fine, Ludwig." His brother was about to speak when England cleared his throat loudly. Prussia didn't want to turn his attention away from his brother, and he did so only grudgingly.

England stood slowly and said, in the style of a judge passing sentence, "The three of you know what you are guilty of, I will not spend time on it. The agreement has been reached. Austria will again be separated from Germany. Both countries will be split into separate zones of occupation." At this point, Russia leaned over and opened his mouth as though he was about to speak. Prussia knew what he was about to say and he wouldn't allow it to be said. The moment had come and there was no turning back now. Gathering all his courage, he stood.

A murmur went around the room, but Prussia blocked it out. He looked directly at England and said, "I volunteer myself to be the Soviet occupied zone." His voice was strangely strong considering how shaken he felt. Austria immediately said, "Are you mad?" Prussia blocked out everyone else's reaction; he focused on his own statement.

As the words died in the air, all eyes turned to Prussia. The albino turned his own gaze to Russia, who was smirking at him. It caused his heart to drop out of his chest. He had wanted to see that he had defeated Russia in some way and there was no hint of that. England recovered from his shock first and said, "Very well, Gilbert. East Germany will be Soviet occupied." America cast a dark glare across the table at Russia, but said nothing.

England looked around at his allies and said, "If no one has any objections. This will be all for now. We will meet in a few years to reunify Germany." As the Briton stepped away from the table, America stood up and yelled at Russia, "I don't know what you did, but I hope you're happy." Without waiting for a response, America stormed out of the room. England and France followed soon after him. Russia remained behind, the same smirk still on his face. He then walked over to the Germanic countries, his every step was ominous. Prussia again felt his heart sink; Russia's expression was making him think that he had done something dreadfully wrong. But there was nothing he could do now; he had sealed his own fate. Russia said simply, "Good choice, Gilbert. I'll give you five minutes to say your goodbyes. Roderich, show some decency and leave the pair of them alone."

Austria complied with a pitying look towards Germany. Once Germany was completely alone with his brother, he said, emotion strangling his voice, "Why did you do that?"  
>Prussia immediately responded, "Because I couldn't let him hurt you."<br>Germany's blue eyes went wide, an almost childish expression of shock. He said, "What do you mean?"

Prussia sighed and put his hands on his brother's shoulders. The gesture was meant to focus Germany's attention squarely on him. He spoke calmly, trying to get his brother to understand his sacrifice, "Ivan wanted to have you and I had to do what I could to protect you."  
>The blonde responded, the entire realization dawning across his face, "But he's going to hurt you."<p>

Prussia nodded and voiced what he had decided on the night before, "It's better me than you." He quickly glancing at his wrist and remembered that he no longer had a watch, only blossoming bruises from the handcuffs. He felt that the time they had left was slipping away. Germany seemed to reach the same realization. In desperation, he threw his arms around his brother. The hug was tight and possessive.

Germany spoke in his brother's ear, "Our separation is only temporary. I will see you again soon." Knowing that prolonged contact would only hurt his brother more, Prussia gently pushed his brother away.  
>He spoke, "Don't be like that. Remember what I taught you: Discipline and strength. You aren't a little boy anymore, Ludwig; you don't have to lean on me."<p>

The door again opened behind Prussia, and he felt a cold draft of air wash over his back. The albino didn't need to look to know that Russia was behind him. The Russian spoke, "Your time is up, Gilbert." The albino nodded and turned and walked away. When he reached the door, he looked back one more time. He saw his brother looking at him with an expression of complete heartbreak.  
>Prussia said, trying to be comforting, "Be strong, Ludwig."<br>Germany nodded, almost tearful, "I will."


	3. Chapter 2

Once outside of the building, they walked out to a large black car. Lithuania was standing next to it, a cigarette stub between his lips. When he caught sight of Russia, he hurriedly dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his foot. His eyes then moved to Prussia and a shadow crossed over his face. As they got closer, the Baltic man took a small step back. But, he stopped as soon as he realized that the situation wasn't going to mysteriously disappear.

When they got even closer, Russia walked over to Lithuania and simply said, "Handcuffs." The brunette mutely pulled a pair out of his jacket pocket and handed them to Russia. The Russian smiled as he took them and turned back to Prussia, "These are for you, Gil. Come over here and turn around." He cast a grimace in Russia's direction, but obeyed all the same. Now that he officially was under Soviet control, fighting over every little command seemed like a terrible idea.

He stopped right in front of Russia and turned. The other then reached out and attached the handcuffs to both of the albino's wrists. Prussia looked over his shoulder into the other's violet eyes, trying to read the expression. There was a cunning glee behind the eyes, which made the albino wonder what was about to happen that could provide so much joy. The metal tighten around his wrists, chilling the skin. Russia looked back up into the albino's face and smiled, "Enjoying the view?"

Prussia quickly shook his head and attempted to take a step forward. But, he couldn't get far because Russia's hands were still firmly on the handcuffs around his wrist. A single tug was enough to bring him back to where he was and another brought him against Russia's chest. Russia placed a light peck on the albino's neck. He then ran his hand down over Prussia's thigh. Russia then said, his eyes taking in Prussia's expression hungrily, "Are they tight enough?" He was referring to the handcuffs, but it took a second for the albino to realize that.

The cuffs were tight against his skin, but not uncomfortable. He couldn't have slipped these off without injuring himself. He responded honestly, "Yes." Russia smirked and tightened the handcuffs another click. Prussia gasped; the handcuffs were painfully tight now. The action was explained when Russia said, "We both know you're a liar." Without even glancing away, he added, "Stop staring, Toris. What I do to him is not of concern to you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Prussia saw Lithuania hurriedly duck inside the car. He couldn't help but be impressed by the absolute control this obedience showed. But, he had himself to focus on, and he could feel that his back was pressed flat against the other's chest. Russia then turned his commands to the albino, "You need to get in the car as well. Either you do it willingly or I make you." Again, it seemed unwise to resist on such a simple order. He climbed through the already open door into the back seat. He got to the far side and glanced over and saw Russia climbing in after him. Once inside, the Russian pulled the door closed. The ominous sound of the door closing jump-started Prussia's heart. It was as though he had suddenly realized how real this was. He was trapped. But, outwardly he couldn't show that realization.

The car roared to life. Prussia spoke, deciding to challenge Russia's dominance, "Tell me, Ivan, how does it feel to be thwarted?" He ignored the sense of foreboding he had felt from the Russian's expressions during the sentencing. But, the feeling came rushing back when the other started to laugh.  
>The violet gaze turned directly to him, "Why should I feel thwarted when I got exactly what I wanted?"<p>

The verbal conformation of what Prussia had been suspecting sent a cold jolt down his spine. He should have seen it, the blatant threats, the subtle hints, and that smug expression Russia had been wearing all the way to Potsdam. The albino gritted his teeth and said, "How dare you manipulate me like that?"  
>Again, Russia let out a cruel childish chuckle, "Because, Gil-" He spoke the shortened name with an edge in his voice that was unnerving, "since you tried to kill me, I have decided to take what I want. And I have always wanted you."<p>

Without any warning, he lunged across the entire length of the seat. Both of his hands went to the albino's face, the palms pressed firmly against the white skin. Before Prussia could comprehend what was happening, Russia slammed their lips together. The kiss was hard and frighteningly passionate. Russia's lips moved with a graceless frenzy. Prussia attempted to resist, but he could feel himself slowly acquiescing to the kiss. In a desperate attempt to stop this moment, he bit down on the other's lip. Russia, in retaliation bit down on the albino's lower lip much harder than Prussia had bit him. The taste of blood flooded his mouth. The albino recoiled as far as he could. The pain in his lip was throbbing and the iron-salt taste was overwhelming his tongue. He felt a drop of blood from his lip roll down his chin.

Russia smirked and then moved his hands to the other's shoulders and pushed. Prussia's back hit the seat and he was suddenly looking up at Russia, who was towering over him like a giant, a smile painted across his face. He seemed to be enjoying having complete dominance. He leaned forward and said, "Make your choices more carefully, or I will spill far more of your blood."

Prussia immediately spat back, "Do you think I will submit to your perversions?" He should have expected the slap, but it surprised him when the pain singed across his cheek. The albino's neck snapped to the side, his gaze forcefully turned away from Russia.  
>The other's voice filled his ears, "You shouldn't object. I heard about the sick things you did with Austria's body during the war, what you let him do with yours. I deserve my share, don't you think?"<p>

Russia's hands traveled with cool assertiveness over Prussia's thighs and then his chest. Prussia fixed his eyes on the other's face, attempting to distract himself from the hands freely roaming his body. The expression on Russia's face was a mix of focus and deeper fascination. His hands continued to move. They came to rest on the collar of the albino's uniform. A cruel smirk curled across the Russian's face as he said, "You've always been selfish, but now I'm going to teach you to satisfy my desires. I'm going to make you submit."

With a single motion, he tore open the front of the uniform. The metal buttons sprayed across the back seat, breaking off of the uniform and flying in every direction. Only the thin white fabric of the undershirt now was the only thing separating them. Russia then turned his strength to the flimsy barrier. The undershirt tore like paper beneath his strong hands. Prussia was breathing through his teeth, attempting to hold back the spiteful words he wanted to spew out. That would only make the situation worse. His pride was screaming at him to stop this only becoming more painfully attractive as he became more domineering. But, there was nothing he could do to change the situation but stop himself from saying anything stupid.

The Russian ran his hands over the newly exposed chest. His touch was surprisingly soft, even tender. But, the words that came next revealed the intentions, "You have such pretty white skin, Gil. I thought you would have more scars. I will have to give you some as reminders of who you belong to." The masochistic desires running in circles around Prussia's head all seemed to merge into one. Being marked permanently as a sign of ownership sounded so appealing, and yet so wrong. But, he couldn't let Russia know that. The other, completely oblivious to Prussia's internal wrestling, leaned forward and ran his tongue along the albino's collarbone. The touch was warm, but the trail of moisture it left chilled in the air. A shiver ran over Prussia's skin, goose bumps erupted over his skin.

The reaction did not go unnoticed. Russia whispered in the other's ear, "Oh, are you cold? The cold is part of me. You'll get used to it eventually." He paused before adding; "Maybe even learn to crave it with time." His hands roamed openly across the exposed white chest, getting more aggressive.  
>Prussia lost his ability to stay completely mute and spat back, "Fuck you!"<p>

He got a laugh in response. Russia put his finger gently to the albino's lips, immediately silencing the man. He smiled in a way that was almost mockingly sweet, "Not a word from you. I only want you to make noise for me when I make you." He then returned his mouth to the task of traveling the length of the white collarbone; finally his cold, soft lips touched the hollow where the shoulder met the neck. With deliberate slowness, Russia started to suck on the skin, moving his tongue languidly over the surface. Prussia tried to hold back the noises of pleasure that bubbled up in his throat. The slow erotic touch was making him remember all of his half-baked fantasies, his daydreams. Everything that he had repressed because of the stigma of the Soviet Union came surging to the surface.

A tiny moan escaped Prussia's lips, and it was enough to trigger an escalation. The Russian's teeth sunk into the flesh of Prussia's neck. It hurt in the sweetest possible way, the kind of pain that only a masochist could long for. The albino's hands curled into tight fists as he attempted to repress what he was feeling, he could feel his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. The masochistic kick only got more intense as the pain intensified. His lips slipped open and a breathy moan shook through his frame. Russia released him long enough to speak tauntingly, "I thought you, of all people, wouldn't give in so easily. I've barely started."

Prussia attempted to buck his hips, the only real move he could make to get out. But all it resulted in was Russia falling forward and effectively closing the gap between them. He smirked and put one hand to Prussia's face, "Oh, Gil, if you wanted to be closer you just needed to say so." He closed the distance between them and licked up the trail of blood down Prussia's chin, ending in his lips. Their lips connected again with violent passion. Russia's touch had only gotten hungrier. His lips pried open Prussia's, although the albino was not resisting as strongly as he thought he was. As Russia's tongue invaded his mouth, Prussia couldn't bring himself to bite down again. However, it wasn't because he feared more retribution. The bite had actually been thrilling and the remaining throbbing was not unpleasant.

Slowly, Russia pulled back, sucking on the injured lip as he did so. His violet gaze had not lessened in intensity, but it had softened. Prussia realized that he was submitting, and he didn't want it to become obvious. He grimaced and attempted to wriggle his way out of the Russian's grasp. This was exactly the wrong move. Russia then grabbed a handful of white hair and jerked Prussia's head back. The strain was painful on the neck. Russia hissed, "Don't try to get out of this. I won't be denied what I am entitled to." He continued in Prussia's ear, "I gave so much for your war. My people, my land. All I want for recompense is to be able to defile your body." Prussia felt the other's hands move once again over his chest as he heard, "Your beautiful, noble body. Why shouldn't it be mine to use?" Russia's eyes were now alight with manic fire, his breaths coming hot and heavy.

Prussia growled back, lying to hide how aroused he was really feeling, "I don't owe you anything! You're a communist and a Slav, everything about you is detestable." He knew the words would anger Russia, but that was exactly what he wanted. Deep inside, his mind was reeling. The repeating, caustic thought whispered to him how good it would feel to just let Russia pound into him, deep and rough with no preparation at all. Painful and passionate.

He expected his comment to earn him another slap, but instead Russia slowly leaned back, smiled, and said, "Well, then I will take great pleasure in making you one of those things." His hands trailed down Prussia's sides, languidly taking in the smooth flesh. He licked his lips and continued talking, "Making you what I am." Prussia felt a shiver of excitement pass over his skin, which was strange considering how hot it was in the cramped back seat. The masochistic fantasies were taking over, and Prussia couldn't stop them. It only intensified when Russia unbuttoned the albino's pants. The Russian was still talking, still gloating, "And you will beg for it before this is all over."

The only response Prussia could come up with was, "Never."  
>The other laughed, "Really, Gil?" One of his hands slipped into the newly unbuttoned pants, and his touch was aggressive. The albino felt himself arch as a wave of pleasure hit him. He didn't want to be reacting, but he couldn't help himself. Not yet satisfied, Russia leaned down and put his lips to Prussia's nipple. He didn't bother to even start gently, immediately he was using his teeth against the sensitive skin. Another unbidden breathy moan escaped Prussia's parted lips. If he had been thinking rationally, he would have regretted the noise, but he wasn't thinking. The overwhelming sensation stretched on for an eternity. Prussia wished he could forget who was doing this to him, but it was in the forefront of his mind that it was Russia's deft hand stroking him so roughly. After the first sound, groans and whimpers sounded freely.<p>

Prussia was finally broken out of his revelry by Russia pulling away. He was strong enough to not immediately ask for Russia to continue. As his head cleared, Prussia realized that the car had stopped moving. They must have reached their destination, wherever that was. Russia smiled slightly and said, "You look disappointed. Did I excite you?"

Prussia took a deep breath in through his nose to steady himself before responding, "That was nothing."  
>He sounded convincing, but Russia only moved closer and said, "You're absolutely right. That was nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you." With that ominous message and a smile, Russia opened the door of the car and disappeared.<p>

Prussia, now left on his own, felt the weight of what he had just done crashing down on him. He had lost control and let out his depraved desires. In the solitude, he breathed heavily. He could still feel Russia's hands on him, could still feel the ghost of lips against his nipple. But he exhaled slowly, trying to regain his discipline. He closed his eyes and continued to breath deeply, choosing to be calm. He need only remind himself of what he did this for. Germany was safe, and that was all that mattered. Prussia slowly reopened his eyes to the monotonous sight of the dark roof of the car. He told himself that this was going to be the last time he let Russia get the better of him, and he actually wished he could believe it.

The door by his head opened. Prussia saw a blur of movement and felt a cloth pressed to his face. The searing smell of chloroform filled his nose and mouth. His vision blurred. Prussia made a half-hearted attempt to fight back. But, within minutes his consciousness was completely extinguished.

* * *

><p><em>AN:Welcome to the rewrite of the best scene of "Break Me". This was very difficult for me, because where the other scenes in the original had very obvious flaws, this one did not. But I hope I made a more exciting, sexy version of it.  
>Anyway, please comment!<em>


	4. Chapter 3

The first feeling Prussia became aware of was something tight around both his wrists. He then realized that his hands were bound to something that was level with his head. Slowly he opened his eyes. He was immediately blinded by the brightness. Either the lights in the room were exceptionally bright, or he had been drugged with something other than chloroform that was still affecting him.

Slowly, the mass of white faded into discernable shapes. First, Prussia realized that what he was tied to was a bed and his hands were secured to the bedposts by leather cuffs attached to a chain that went through a pulley on the side of the bedposts and was then bolted to the floor. Prussia's head was still spinning, the drug was making the world blur and shift in ways that could not be normal. He could feel the cold air against his skin, which told him that his torso was completely exposed. Everything around him was still too difficult to make out until a towering shape stepped toward him.

Russia didn't speak at first; he instead took a few more steps over, "Good morning, Gil." He leaned forward and kissed the albino on the lips. Prussia wanted to resist, but he was surprised that he couldn't muster the strength to actively resist. The kiss was short, but there was a surprising amount of passion in it. When he pulled away, Russia smirked and said, "You aren't resisting very hard."

Prussia immediately responded, quick to make it clear that he wasn't enjoying this, "What did you drug me with? It still hasn't worn off." The statement was meant to sound aggressive, assertive, but his voice sounded like it was struggling to escape his throat.  
>Russia's expression didn't shift, but there was a laugh in his voice when he said, "So you're still weak? That's just perfect." He put both of his hands on the other's bare waist. The drug strangely magnified the feeling of leather gloves against skin. Prussia let out a shaky exhale, an almost involuntary reaction to the contact. Russia smile widened, "Weak and reactive, that's even better." He moved his hands up the albino's body, leather gliding against skin. Russia continued talking, "If I fucked you now, I doubt you would even try to stop me."<p>

Prussia became suddenly aware of how close together they were. Their faces were only inches apart. He responded to what had been a speculative statement, "I would fight you." Again, his words didn't seem to have any effect.  
>Russia continued to smirk and said, "That isn't what your body is telling me. But pleasure isn't what I planned for you today." He leaned back and Prussia's perception of him blurred, but only for a moment.<p>

Then Russia stood up and walked away. Prussia could no longer make out his captor clearly. Still, he said, attempting bravery, "Where are we? Tell me!" It was not much for bravado, but it was the best he could muster.  
>Russia laughed as he walked closer again, this time carrying a tray, "That's not important right now. You might as well think of it as purgatory, you don't get out until you suffer for your sins." The Russian sat down on the bed again, setting the tray down on a table beside him. He then put his hand under the other's chin, adding as he did so, "And you have a lot of sins to pay for, Nazi."<p>

Prussia surreptitiously pulled at his restraints to test how strong they really were. He got very little movement. He should have expected as much, Russia had been methodical in putting this together. Reluctantly, he looked over at the tray that Russia had brought into his field of view. Arrayed on it were a series of long silver needles, Prussia couldn't quite figure out what they were for, but he was certain it was painful. Russia's voice called Prussia's attention back to his captor, "Pay attention to me, Gil." The albino turned his eyes back to the Russian and he tried to tell himself that he wasn't being obedient. Russia started speaking, apparently he had already scripted this part of the encounter. "Now, pay attention, this is important. "

He paused for only a moment before saying, "Most of the nerve endings in the human body are located in the first couple layers of the skin. Which makes the shallowest cuts the most painful." As he spoke, he ran his hands over the exposed white chest, and the tingling the touch left in the skin only proved his point. Again, he paused and a sadistic smile slowly appeared on his face, "I always heard that Prussian military training created unshakable discipline. Let's see how much you can really take before you break."

Prussia gritted his teeth, trying to brace himself for whatever was coming. His own imagination could come up with at least a dozen options for those needles and his body, each exquisitely painful. But, Russia didn't keep him in suspense much longer. He reached over and took a needle from the tray, and swiftly sunk it into the flesh of Prussia's chest so that the tip went into the skin and then out again. The end result was the needle threaded under the skin. Having skin pierced understandably hurt, but the needle was small and the pain was well within Prussia's tolerance. He couldn't help himself from making a biting comment, "Is that really all you have?"

Russia's icy smile immediately told him he was wrong. The skin around the needle began to feel oddly warm. Russia ran his finger over the needle and said, "It's worse than you think. You'll see soon." The warmth was slowly turning into pain, not intense pain, but enough to be noticeable. Without thinking, the albino grimaced. It didn't go unnoticed. Russia replied to it, "So you've noticed. The metal is coated with an acid. It won't actually burn your skin, but it will feel like it is. The longer I leave it, the more it will hurt."

Even as he spoke, the pain intensified. Prussia refused to show any more reaction. He had done enough to feed Russia's sadism already. However, the Russian simply reached over and grabbed another needle. This one he threaded under the skin right next to the first with deliberate slowness. Prussia let out a long breath through his nose; it was an involuntary reaction to the pain. As this one slipped beneath the skin, the sting of the other only worsened. But, Prussia wouldn't allow himself to make any noise.

In complete silence, Russia took another needle, this one larger in diameter, and sunk it into the flesh. Again, Prussia refused to react, but the pain was only getting worse. He curled his hands into fists, his nails digging into the wounds he had made earlier. But still, he would not groan knowing that was exactly what Russia wanted. Even with the pain coursing through his chest, he wouldn't admit it.

Almost spitefully, Russia inserted the next two needles simultaneously. Both were larger than the last, and they brought more pain with them. This time it required clenching his jaw to make it impossible to scream or make a noise. His hands were shaking in the restraints, making the chains rattle against the bedposts. To feed his determination, Prussia looked straight at Russia. He could see that the other was breathing heavily. Was it possible that this was turning Russia on? The Russian spoke, his words not sounding as controlled as when he started, "That's five. I know that it's agonizing for you. Just say the word and it will stop."

Prussia unclenched his jaw, and in doing so realized how hard he had been working to keep it closed, to say, "And tell me-" He had to stop to suck in a breath to stop himself from letting a whimper be heard in his voice. But, mustering all his strength, he continued, "what am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to beg?" He paused again to make sure his voice continued to be strong when he finished, "Didn't anyone tell you that I'm not the begging type?"

Russia grabbed a hold of Prussia's chin, his fingers pressing against the sore muscles. His violet eyes fixed on the other's red and he spoke, "You will beg and call me 'master'. Eventually, you will."  
>Prussia spat back, "Don't project your sick fantasies onto me." The pain was coursing through his chest, emanating from where the needles were imbedded in his chest. But, Prussia wouldn't allow himself to cave. He wouldn't give Russia the satisfaction of seeing him actually suffer.<p>

Russia leaned back slightly and said, "I'm impressed. I know how much pain you're in, but you aren't showing any of it." He then smirked coldly as he continued, "But that only means I'm going to have to increase the pain." He grabbed another needle, this one thicker than any of the ones that had preceded it. A quick glance at the tray revealed that there were still at least 10 needles left, each increasing in diameter. The largest appeared to be several centimeters thick; it would be like getting stabbed with a thin blade. However, the last two were quite thin again. Prussia could only guess at what those were for.

Russia slowly slid the needle he was holding under a new area of skin, this time lower on the chest. At the moment, Russia was still avoiding the albino's nipples, which were the most sensitive areas. As this needle was fully inserted, another surge of pain hit Prussia. It took all his concentration to stop himself from making a noise. Russia ran his finger over the skin, pressing the nerves even more firmly against the metal. As he did so he leaned closer and whispered, "That's six. You won't make it to ten without screaming for me."  
>Prussia kept his response short to mask the whine of pain that was slipping into his voice, "I will."<p>

The other laughed under his breath as he reached over and grabbed yet another needle. But, this one he did not insert right away. Instead, he spoke again, gloating this time, "You are a challenge. So disciplined, so resolute." He touched the end of the needle to his finger, holding it between his fingers for a moment. Prussia now couldn't risk talking. The acid was circulating through his blood. His entire chest felt like it was burning, not just the areas around the needles. Prussia could feel his heart pounding, each beat sending waves of hot searing pain through his skin. He didn't want to admit it, but Russia might be right; he couldn't hold out for another four without making a noise. The little bouts of banter had been a clever ploy to draw out the time so the acid could intensify.

Russia took the needle currently in his hand and ran it down the middle of the albino's chest, leaving a superficial scratch. But, the pain was inordinate. Gilbert hissed before he could stop himself. It was a small sound, but it was enough. A satisfied smile appeared on Russia's face. He said, "I do believe that was a crack in your composure." His smile widened as he pushed the needle into the white flesh. Prussia stifled a groan, but a grimace of pain flashed across his face. Russia spoke again, "You'll feel better if you let it out."

Prussia couldn't stop himself from responding, "No, it will feel better for-" As he spoke, Russia pushed another needle under his skin. Prussia let out a short cry, unable to clamp his jaw closed in time to stop himself. As soon as the initial pain wore off, Prussia again returned to silence, now aware of what he had given up.  
>But, he wasn't going to be able to forget it; Russia immediately said, "That sounded even sexier than I expected." Even with the trick he had just fallen for, Prussia had to speak, "That wasn't fair."<p>

Russia's smirk disappeared as he said, "Well you would know about being unfair. You did shoot me when my back was turned." The albino refused to accept that, even if the other had a valid point. He had betrayed a pact, but it had not been completely dishonorable.  
>He corrected, "I waited until we were face to face to shoot. I will not shoot a man in the back." Russia scoffed, "A difference of semantics. You lied to me. You betrayed me. So, why should I act fairly to you?"<p>

In the middle of this sentence, he grabbed another needle. At the sight, an involuntary tremor passed through Prussia. It was as if his nerves, completely independent of conscious thought, reacted to the idea of having more strain inflicted upon them. The ninth needle, only one more before Prussia could say he had beaten Russia. But, he was weakening and he knew it. It wasn't the needles, those would be bearable on their own; it was the acid, which felt like it was eating through his pale flesh and leaving the muscle beneath red and raw. Yet, Prussia knew that if he looked down at his own skin he would see nothing but slight inflammation and redness.

As Russia inserted this needle so slowly that it felt like every inch took a minute, Prussia felt his chest heaving as he attempted to pull in breaths through his teeth. When he finished, Russia smirked and said, "You're never going to make it. Just give in, it will be easier."  
>With his teeth still clenched, the albino responded between heaving breaths, "You only have so many needles."<br>Russia laughed, "Just so you know, the last two go through your nipples if you make it that far without begging for me to stop."

Then, with another sadistic self-pleased smile, he plunged the ninth needle into what little open space was left on Prussia's chest. Prussia could feel the individual fibers of his flesh being torn apart by the intruding tip of the needle, and every one of them felt like the deep cutting of a knife. This time it was impossible to hold back at least a groan. The sound was low and relatively quiet, but it sounded like surrender in the absolute silence. Prussia didn't register that Russia had leaned forward until he heard the other whisper in his ear, "So that's what you sound like when you're succumbing."

He was far past being able to speak without letting out a plethora of pained noises, or else Prussia would have said something, insisted that he wasn't giving in. He simply shook his head in an attempt to convey what he was thinking. One more needle pierced through his skin, and the pain was blinding. But, Prussia only let out a low controlled groan again. Russia spoke, once again commenting on the progress, "That's ten."

Mustering all of his self control, Prussia said back, "And did you hear-" His voice faltered and he was forced to try and compose himself before continuing, "me scream?" It was supposed to be an assertion of his resistance, but Prussia's voice was shaking. Russia took it as a challenge. He reached over the couple thick needles to the remaining thin two thin ones. Russia didn't need to say what he was going to do with them, but he did all the same, "I guess I'll have to skip straight to this if I want you to scream."

Prussia glanced down at his own nipples with trepidation. To his surprise, Russia leaned down and put his mouth to the albino's nipple. The soft sucking infused pleasure into the pain, which was horribly confusing for a masochist. It was exactly what he had fantasized about for so long, and yet it felt both better and worse than he imagined. Russia then released the nipple and then blew on it. The cold air across the wet skin excited the nipple, which was almost instantly pert. Suddenly this shift to affection made sense, frighteningly so.

Russia took one of the thin needles, and without flinching pierced all the way through the nipple. Prussia closed his eyes and threw back his head in a full-throated scream. The pain overwhelmed his senses. He pulled the chains completely taught, his hands turned even whiter as they clenched tight. His toes curled. It was surrender, and Prussia knew it. But, he couldn't withstand this anymore.

He felt the soft touch of lips against his own, and in the midst of the sensation, he didn't think enough to stop his lips from moving to mold against Russia's. Prussia felt the needle slide out of the flesh of his nipple. He opened his eyes and looked at the other, who was now right above him, questioningly. There was no reason for this reprieve. But it was explained with a single breathless phrase, "Good boy."

Russia dropped the newly removed needle on the tray. But, it seemed that Prussia wasn't the only one whose self-control had disappeared. Russia leaned in again and connected their lips again, his lack of restraint evident in the force and the roughness. As they kissed, Prussia could feel needles being pulled haphazardly out of his chest. If this was reward or simply convenience was impossible to determine, but it came as a relief all the same. For a couple minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were the clinking of needles hitting the tray and the soft moans that Prussia made every time a needle came out of his chest.

Once all ten needles were gone, Russia pulled out of the kiss. Slowly Prussia opened his eyes and looked straight into the other's. The violet depths were filled with confusion, but it was only momentary. He leaned in and said, the excitement clear in every syllable, "Do you want this?" Prussia knew he should have said no, turned Russia away. He focused all of the disparate pieces of his will on saying no. He formed the word in his mind, but when he opened his mouth, the word that he uttered was a single hoarse, "Yes."

That single admission was enough; the game of cat and mouse was over. Russia grabbed Prussia's pants and removed them quickly. As he worked, he started to kiss down the other's white neck, which elicited short moans. Prussia's body was still burning from the torture it had just endured, but this mix of pain and pleasure was amazingly stimulating.

He didn't even notice that Russia had unzipped his own pants until he felt a finger, slick and wet, pushing into him. Prussia's mind was failing to perceive important facts, like the fact that Russia must have taken off a glove and sucked on his fingers. The Russian didn't have the patience to actually prepare the albino properly. He inserted two more fingers quickly. Prussia groaned at the speed, it wasn't painful yet, but it was an unpleasant stretch. Then, without hesitation, Russia removed his fingers and sheathed himself entirely in the other.

Prussia cried out, but it was only instinctual. Compared to the pain still pounding through his chest, this was not even noticeable. He glanced at Russia's face, and was genuinely surprised by the expression. Russia's eyes were half-closed and he was breathing very heavily. It was a look of pure pleasure. Slowly, Russia leaned in and kissed Prussia again, this time much more softly. Prussia could almost feel a slight tremble in the other's lips.

Slowly, almost gently, Russia moved. The first thrust was slow, which was exactly the opposite of what Prussia was really craving. Now that he was giving into his repressed sexual desires, he wanted to be pounded into hard and fast. This gentleness was not what he wanted from Russia. The next few thrusts came at the same slow pace. In frustration, Prussia cried out, "Go faster."

Again, a look of confusion flashed across Russia's face, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk. Immediately, he sped up. This speed, at least, created enough friction to make Prussia moan as small waves of pleasure hit him. But, even with this, and the other now kissing his neck again, it wasn't enough. Russia freed his mouth to lean in and say, "Is that better?"  
>The albino responded with a frustrated growl, "Harder."<p>

Something seemed to break behind the violet eyes and the smirk turned into a look of determination. He grabbed both of Prussia's hips in his big hands, fingers digging into the flesh. He shifted his aim and slammed himself fully into Prussia. He hit the albino's prostate straight on. A jolt of pleasure shot up Prussia's spine, making every nerve in his body sing, making him see dancing sparks. His body arched, pressing his chest against the Russian's. The skin was still incredibly sensitive from being pierced with needles. The pain mixed with the, now overwhelming pleasure, in a magnified combined sensation.

Now that he had found the right spot, Russia was ruthless in his pace. He hit the prostate over and over again as the albino writhed and moaned shamelessly beneath him. The words spilled freely from the German's lips, "Yes, yes, Ivan, so good." The chains creaked as Prussia pulled against them. Already abused and over stimulated, Prussia knew that he couldn't last much longer. All the same, the idea of outlasting Russia, even while the other was being completely dominant, was very appealing.

But, even as this thought crossed his pleasure-addled brain, Russia bit down into the soft flesh of the other's neck. This last piece of sensation was too much. White filled Prussia's vision and he came with one more hoarse scream. It only took a few more uncoordinated thrusts before Russia came as well. He was breathing very heavily, obviously exhausted. Prussia noticed that there was blood all over the Russian's chest. It took him a moment to realize that it was his blood from the wounds in his chest, which had been pressed hard against Russia.

Exhaustion now washed over Prussia. His eyes fluttered closed for a second, and the position felt far better than keeping them closed. Russia whispered one last time, "Go to sleep, Gil. You've been quite the experience and you deserve the rest." The feeling of his weight on the bed disappeared. Once he was alone again, Prussia drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I almost completely gutted this scene from the original, because the torture in the original really wasn't that intense. This isn't the worst of the torture that is going to be in this version either, so I hope you are looking forward to the rest. Please review!_


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